


Fragile

by ComposerofDiscord



Category: Justice League: Gods and Monsters (2015)
Genre: Bottom!Hernan, Canon-Typical Violence, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Graphic Description of Pain, Happy Ending, Hernan loves his telenovelas, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Top!Kirk, Uber driver Steve, depicted body wounds, if you do the math that's a lot of butt stuff, one third smut, two thirds plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-03-04 17:28:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25230118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ComposerofDiscord/pseuds/ComposerofDiscord
Summary: All it takes is one day, one moment, for a life to be forever changed. Hernan struggles to adjust to this new life of his, as Kirk tries to pick up the pieces.(a/n: sorry for the vague summary, but the fic is written for you to not have all the answers right away).
Relationships: Bekka/Steve Trevor, Hernan Guerra/Kirk Langstrom
Comments: 3
Kudos: 21
Collections: Superbat Reverse Bang 2020





	Fragile

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AriesNoHope](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AriesNoHope/gifts).



> A/N: Huge thanks to the wonderful artist who inspired this fic. Aries, my dear friend, it's been a great pleasure to watch your art grow and evolve into what it is today, and I hope this story - that I know you've wanted written for a while - lives up to your expectations.
> 
> Another huge thanks to the SuperbatReverseBang mods, and to all of the weirdos in the discord server. Thank you for all the laughs and encouragements that helped get this fic done.
> 
> And to you, readers, please check out the art that inspired this fic, on [AO3](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25233052) and [Tumblr](https://ariesnohope.tumblr.com/post/623485659948154880/for-a-mysterious-reason-superman-loses-his-heat)! Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoy!

_‘I need to leave.’_ Hernan thought. _‘I need to get out of here.’_

He’s been imprisoned in the Tower for almost a week now, and it was driving him a little insane to say the least. One could only watch so much news before wanting to hurl themselves off the tallest building.

“Huh…” _‘Now that’s an idea.’_

“Hernan.” There was a warning edge in Kirk’s tone.

“It’s a nice day today, isn’t it? Blue skies and everything.”

Suspicion remained in Kirk’s red gaze, but he didn’t refute Hernan’s flighty statement.

_“Fires blaze in downtown Metropolis from what authorities believe to be due to a gas leak. Metropolis fire department is quick to arrive at the scene to quell the flames. They believe to have it contained, but still the question remains on everyone’s minds: where is Superman?”_

“I want a new clicker.” Hernan glared at the TV screen.

“Or you can just turn it off?”

“Don’t. You. Dare.”

Kirk, about to rise from his seat, froze.

“ _Days of Our Lives_ comes on at one,” Hernan explained. It was his one hour of reprieve from hearing Lois Lane for four hours in the morning. Had he known his imprisonment was going to last this long, he would have never broken the remote in the first place. Not that the first time was intentional…

“You can still turn off the TV, and then at one, turn it back on.” Kirk reasoned, but even as practical of a solution as it was, Hernan was horrified.

Sit in silence for the next two hours? No thank you. But Hernan refrained from saying as much, and instead opted for _casually_ leaning back into the couch like an anchor ready to wait out two more stormy hours.

Kirk shook his head and walked over to turn the TV off. “You’re torturing yourself.”

“Well what else am I supposed to do?”

Hernan instantly regretted the words as soon as he said them. He snapped, but unlike the remote, the broken expression Kirk showed him was something that could not be so easily fixed.

“I’m sorry…”

 _‘Don’t say that.’_ Hernan’s knuckles pressed hard against his knee. _‘I’m the one who’s sorry...’_

“I’m going to get a new remote.” Hernan rose from the couch.

His feet trudged heavily across the floor to his room. Dresser drawers were yanked open and shut. Clothes were flung behind him before he blindly decided on a shirt to tug over his head. He whipped out a dark jacket, and slammed his closet door. Hopping on one foot, he slipped his leg into a pair of jeans before hopping onto the other foot to get the opposite leg in. Lastly, he stomped his foot into beige work boots, each stomp across the floor stuffing his feet further into the boots until they were fully on and he was out the door.

Kirk didn’t say anything.

He didn’t need to for he was right. Hernan was torturing himself, but most of all, he was torturing Kirk. He needed to leave for both their sakes.

The flight down the elevator felt longer than usual or rather unusual… Hernan had rarely ever used the elevator. The elevator was placed for visitors to the Tower. It wasn’t meant for him.

Stepping out the back entrance, he placed on a pair of shades and a black baseball cap to hide his face. The last thing he needed was for someone to recognize him.

He huffed at the thought. What a sight. There was Superman, walking down the street instead of putting out fires.

“Hernan?”

“Well,” a sardonic smile broke across his features, “If I can’t make it down a single block without being spotted, I guess I need a better disguise.”

Bekka shook her head. “Your disguise is fine. I don’t think anyone would suspect Superman wearing a – You’re a 10? Maybe on the pH scale cuz you basic – shirt.”

“It was a gift.”

“But then again, you do have a terrible personality.”

“That is also a gift.”

Hernan couldn’t help the mirthful tug of his lips as Bekka smiled back at him.

“Nice shirt.”

Hernan’s mood, like a rollercoaster, had gone up just to plummet back down.

“Steve.”

Steve had promptly gotten out of his car as if he wasn’t planning to until Hernan had showed up. How thoughtful. He gave Hernan a silent wave, but thankfully left the rest of the talking to Bekka.

“Are you going somewhere?” Bekka asked.

“Yeah, I’m going to get a new remote.”

“Does Kirk know?”

Hernan’s smile had all but faded. “Yeah, he knows.”

For a moment, Bekka didn’t say anything. Her brows furrowed as her blue eyes dug into him, but she didn’t pry any further. Rather, she said something far worse.

“Steve can drive you.”

“What?”

“What?”

Twin pair of shocked eyes looked at Bekka who only wore a saccharine smile.

“Wait, that’s not necessary. I don’t need a lift.” Hernan tried to quickly recompose himself.

“Really? Do you know where you’re going?”

“Yeah, a Radio Shack can’t be too far away.”

“Radio Shack? Hernan, when was the last time you were at a Radio Shack?”

Hernan didn’t want to say it’s been at least fifteen years, but surely, they were still around. Things couldn’t have changed that much, but by the surprised look Steve was giving him and the way Bekka had laughed, things had changed.

“It’s settled then. Steve will take you,” Bekka said matter-of-factly, or in other words: get in the car, Hernan.

Hernan got in the car.

Steve looked just as excited as Hernan was, which was not at all. Luckily, Bekka was more than excited for the both of them as she waved them goodbye. Apparently, Steve was just dropping her off when Hernan had run into them, meaning that right now, it was just the two of them in Steve’s dark grey sedan.

Hernan was no expert when it came to cars. He had never owned one himself, but he could differentiate a junk car from a luxury car. What lied in between was less clear, but Steve’s car certainly fell in the middle. Not too poor nor too rich, just normal. Simple, just like Steve.

“So, I take it we’re not going to a RadioShack,” Hernan said as Steve pulled onto the road.

“No. A Staples or a BBB is closer.”

“BBB?”

“Bed, Bath, and Beyond,” Steve explained. “Also, put on your seatbelt.”

“If I do, will you finally go faster than 20mph?” Hernan teased, though went to buckle up nonetheless.

“If I don’t because I’m following the city speed limit, are you going to compare me to your grandma?”

Hernan scoffed. “I wish you drove like my abuela. She ran over abuelo twice in one day.”

Steve grimaced.

“He’s perfectly fine by the way.”

“I’m not really sure what to be more concerned about: you suggesting I commit vehicular manslaughter, or you sounding pleased by your grandma’s driving record?”

“Were you listening? It’s not vehicular manslaughter. My abuelo is alive and well. Besides, my aubuela’s driving record is spotless… as far as the authorities are concerned.”

Steve sighed to himself. “I feel like this explains so much.”

As much as Hernan liked his abuela, he had only met her twice. Once when he was a teenager, and again during his first few months of being Superman. If his abuela took any credit for how Hernan had turned out, then it would be whatever mannerisms she had passed down to Hernan’s mother which was probably a considerable amount now that he thought about it...

Moving on, Hernan spotted a couple of CD cases stuffed into the door’s side pocket. He picked them up and flipped through them. Talking Head’s _Remain in Light_ , Pink Floyd’s _Dark Side of the Moon_ , Journey’s Greatest Hits…

“What? No AC/DC?”

“Put those back.”

“No Guns N’ Roses?”

“Hernan.”

“Aerosmith?”

Steve’s grip around the steering wheel tightened and his jaw clenched in restraint.

Hernan hid his smirk behind a CD case, but soon conceded since Steve was still the one driving. He put them back with a click of his tongue. “If you don’t want anyone to find out that you have terrible taste in music, you should have just downloaded it all.”

“I do have them downloaded. I have those just in case.”

“In case of what?”

“In case my iPod is out of power.”

“That’s pretty smart.”

There was a small pause before Steve said, “Thanks.”

“You know, if this were the time before car chargers were invented.”

“Says the one who thinks Radio Shack is still relevant.”

Hernan refrained from rolling his eyes.

Steve slowed to a stop at a yellow light much to Hernan’s annoyance. Walking would have been much faster at this point.

“You could have made that.”

“I know you don’t have a driver’s license and all, but yellow means slow down.”

Hernan unbuckled his seatbelt, and unlocked the door.

“Hernan?”

“I’m walking.”

“Hernan!” Steve quickly grabbed the back of Hernan’s jacket. “Hernan, get back in the car!”

Several car honks later, and a stop at Starbucks, Steve and Hernan stood in front of the wide array of electronics in Bed, Bath, and Beyond. Hernan had his black baseball cap on and shades so no one would notice him. Even so, he still earned some suspicious looks from various employees.

“So,” Steve, the normal looking of the two with a black ice coffee at hand, asked, “you know what remote you want?”

“I’ll know it when I see it.” Hernan lightly chewed on his green straw as he scanned the shelves. He had no idea what he was drinking. He just thought the promo picture looked nice.

“What about this one?” Steve pointed to one that looked bulky even in the package. “It’s a universal remote.”

“It looks nothing like the one I use.”

“It’s universal; it should work anyway.”

Hernan frowned, “Is there a nicer looking one?”

“Who cares what it looks like?”

“I do. I have to use it.”

“Oh my god.” Steve groaned. “You know what? Fine. I’ll be at the front of the store in ten minutes. You can buy a remote in the next ten minutes, right?”

“Is that a hard deadline?”

Steve’s blue eyes narrowed. “Ten minutes.”

Steve turned around and left before Hernan could make another snide comment, not that Hernan was going to. He was a humble winner after all, and Steve retreating definitely counted as a win in whatever nameless game they were playing.

With Steve gone, Hernan could finally peruse in peace. Although truthfully, Hernan had already scanned all of them, and none of them matched the one he used. Was it that special? Well if he was using it, it had to be. But the more Hernan thought about it, he had no idea where the original remote came from. It had just come with the Tower along with the TV, most of the furniture, and even the utensils…

He had brought very little to the Tower in terms of personal belongings. He had small trinkets he had collected over the years, little gifts from his family, and some clothes. The only major thing he had added to the Tower was some alien technology – something he had used so often that it felt weird not to be able to –

Well, normal human technology would have to do. He took the clunky universal remote.

Having gotten what he came for, Hernan went to checkout. Or at least, he headed in that direction. He had every intention to simply buy the remote and leave, but like a goldfish, he never looked at one thing for too long. The movie and music section was right next to the electronic section. Then came bath and linens, beauty products, and snacks. Hernan had stopped at all of them in that order.

Who’s to say if ten minutes had passed by the time he reached Steve, except Steve himself. Steve was sporting a fearsome scowl with brows so tightly furrowed together, it was on the verge of forming a unibrow.

Skipping right past asking the obvious of what took Hernan so long, Steve instead asked, “What’s in the bag?”

The shopping bag was much too big for a single remote as Steve eyed it suspiciously. Even so, Hernan didn’t get much. What he did get were things he couldn’t help. In home décor, he saw a soft blanket with a big, smiling bee wearing a crown, and the apt caption: Queen Bee. He got it for Bekka.

The past week, Hernan hated to admit it, but Bekka had stepped up into a leadership role. It wasn’t that the League had a sole leader. When it came to major decisions, it was always decided on a vote. But with task delegations, government meetings, and even PR, it was Hernan who dealt with it. Now that he could no longer do so, it was Bekka who stepped in.

In the beauty products, Hernan found a pair of bat shaped hair clips. Hernan was surprised to see them since it wasn’t anywhere near Halloween, but when he saw them, he couldn’t help but think of Kirk.

Kirk…

Kirk didn’t stop him when he stormed out of the Tower. Kirk had simply stood there unmoving as Hernan stomped around. He didn’t reach out to him like he had all the times before when Hernan tried to leave. He didn’t make up an excuse that he needed to run more tests, or suggest that maybe Hernan should try reading a book or watching an old movie.

Kirk simply let him go.

Or it wasn’t as simple as it had seemed at that moment. Hernan remembered how Kirk stood there, so small with his head bowed and shoulders slumped over. His clothes had clung loosely to him as if he had been forgetting to eat, and the shadows beneath his eyes were darker than usual. His hair was loose instead of slicked back as if he didn’t have to time to fix it or perhaps he just didn’t care anymore. 

It was that final image of Kirk that motivated Hernan to get the hair clips. Of course, Hernan knew the clips weren’t an apology… they wouldn’t solve everything, but just helping to pin Kirk’s hair back from his face, well that fixed one small thing. And maybe, just maybe, they could solve the big things by starting with fixing the little things.

However, instead of explaining all that to Steve, Hernan reached into his shopping bag and pulled out a snack-sized bag of Tostitos chips.

“Want some?”

Steve sighed and shook his head. “Let’s just head back already.”

Finally, something they could both agree on.

Hernan buckled up and opened the bag of chips. Steve didn’t say anything about it. Either he wasn’t bothered by it, or he was just too tired to fight. At the first red light, Hernan wordlessly held the bag open for him, shaking it with a teasing smile.

Steve took one.

 _‘Ah-hah!’_ Hernan held back his triumphant laugh. There was no need to fan the flames further now that they’re almost back at the Tower. Instead, Hernan left the bag of chips between them like a white flag.

Well, with such a peace offering, Hernan supposed he couldn’t play one of Steve’s CDs now, so he opted for the radio. He turned the dial to a clear station and sat back in his seat as some pop song played between them. It wasn’t the kind of music either them really seemed to enjoy, but it mindless enough to tune out, and loud enough to fill the silent void.

_“You’re now listening to Metro Hits FM Radio. Up next…”_

Hernan found himself sitting straighter at the sound of a screeching siren whirl past them. He wondered if the cop car was responding to the fire from earlier, but surely it had already been handled by now…

A second and third cop car passed by them, following the first one.

Hernan turned the radio dial.

“Hernan.” Steve finally broke the silence.

_“Next up is the traffic report brought to you by Robyn. Robyn, what are you seeing out there?”_

_“Hello there, Dave. I’m flying over the Luthor Parkway right now where traffic is backed up for miles due to an over twenty car pileup on the Clinton Bridge. According to bystander reports, the accident started when an eighteen-wheel truck lost control and struck a school bus._

_“Now, if you’re watching us live from our mobile app or website, you can see our sky-cam team catch the wreckage as it would appear that same eighteen-wheel truck is still lying on top of the school bus. First responders are working hard to try to reach the children trapped inside, but with the traffic, it is hard to estimate their arrival time. It’s times like these, Dave, where we must wonder, where is Super—"_

Steve turned the radio off. “It’s not our jurisdiction.”

“What do you mean it’s not our jurisdiction?”

“Police are arriving at the scene, and I’m sure an extraction team will not be too far bdhind.”

Steve slowed to a halt. They were stuck between two traffic lights, but even as the light turned green, the cars in front did not move. It would seem the traffic had caught up with them even this far out from the parkway.

Hernan turned the radio back on.

_“Update on the accident on Clinton Bridge: Metropolis PD are the first to arrive on scene as you can see from the sky cam, their police cars are being used to close off the area. You can also see that more help is on the way, however the fire department, the ones in charge of vehicle extraction, is still being delayed due to most stations having been deployed to put out the large fires that broke out earlier today—’_

Steve hurriedly turned off the radio once more. “I know what you’re thinking Hernan, but you can’t go.”

“So I’m supposed to just sit here?!”

“Yes!”

Hernan’s jaw clenched.

He knew he wasn’t supposed to go. He wasn’t even supposed to leave the Tower in the first place. He knew that and yet… how long could he not be Superman anymore?

After a week of not hearing anything outside the four corners his room, like a dam breaking, voices flooded into his head.

“H-Help…”

“M-Mom? Mom!”

“It hurts… Someone please...”

Hernan could hear children crying. He could hear the crackling of flames, the crunching of broken glass, and sirens ricocheting against his skull. He couldn’t ignore it anymore.

They needed Superman.

Hernan unbuckled and opened the car door before Steve could grab him.

“Hernan!” Steve swore under his breath as he too unbuckled and stepped out of the car, but Hernan had already taken down the street.

“Goddammit.” Steve swore again when it was clear Hernan wasn’t coming back. He climbed back into his car and reached into his glovebox where his emergency siren was. He attached the emergency light to the roof of his car, and turned the siren on. Slowly, the cars made way for him, but by then, Hernan was no longer in sight.

Hernan had hurried past the traffic-locked cars. It wasn’t at the speed that he could usually run at, but he was still faster than any normal man. He felt his blood rushing in a way he hadn’t felt in what seemed like a long time. He could hear his heart pounding with every bounding step he took, and with each leap, he raised just another inch up off the ground.

It almost felt as if he were flying again, and perhaps he had in some way, for it was not long before he reached the site of the accident.

There were a couple of cop cars lined up across the road forming a barricade, but only two cops stationed to keep back bystanders. Two against quite a few people, it wasn’t hard to see they were overwhelmed.

“Sir? Excuse me, sir!” one of them tried to push Hernan back when they saw him break through the line of smartphones recording everything. “Please, step back. This scene is not safe for pedestrians.”

“Stand down.” Hernan removed his dark shades and baseball cap. “I’m here to help.”

“Superman?” the policeman’s eyes grew wide as he recognized Hernan’s face.

From the sudden mention of the hero’s name, all smartphones were on him as people echoed the policeman’s original shock and confusion.

The policeman stepped aside and allowed Hernan through. “It’s good to see you, Superman.”

“Superman?”

“It’s Superman!”

The crowd rushed forward to get a closer look, but the policemen held them back. Hernan considered flashing the crowd a smile as good PR, but considering he wasn’t supposed to be here, he kept his head down low. He already caused more of a scene than he had hoped. There was no way he could simply hide himself as a Good Samaritan now.

_‘Do what you need to do and then go.’_

Hernan spotted two officers carefully carrying out a woman from her car. The front of the car was crushed like a tin can, and blood trickled from her forehead. They laid her across flat on the concrete, and rushed to extract more drivers from their cars. Those still abled from the crash, watched over those incapacitated on the side.

The officers were working their way from the outside, in, rescuing those they knew they could save first. The worst of the accident was left untouched. The eighteen-wheel truck remained on top of the school bus, trapping the children inside.

“Officer,” Hernan pulled one of the policemen aside. “Please gather as many of your squad members as you can and meet me at the school bus. I can lift the truck, but I’ll need you guys to pull out the kids, alright?”

“Yes, sir.”

Hernan made his way to the bus. With every step he took, he could hear the children’s voices grow louder within his head. A week ago, he could have controlled the voices. He could control whose voice he wished to hear, how far away he was listening from. But their cries kept rushing into his head at a rate he could not stop.

He needed to help them.

The weight of an eighteen-wheel truck started at forty tons, not including the weight of the cargo inside. A week ago, such a fact wouldn’t matter to Hernan, but now as Hernan stood in front of the truck, he worried he wouldn’t be able to lift it.

Not only was there the truck, but there were other smaller vehicles crushed against the front and back of the bus. Hernan checked inside to see if there were any passengers, but the cars were thankfully empty.

“I gathered as many men as we could spare, Superman.” The officer Hernan spoke to earlier had five of his squad members join him.

Hernan could hear more backup coming down the road, but there was no time to wait for them.

“Alright then; get ready. As soon as I lift up the truck, you guys reach in and try to carry out as many children as you can.”

“Yes, sir.”

Hernan took a deep breath.

He climbed on top of the school bus and peered inside the truck. Still buckled in his seat remained the driver unconscious. Before Hernan could lift the truck, he would need to extract the driver.

He pried open the car door, and unbuckled the driver. Slowly, being careful not to move the man’s neck too much, he pulled the man out and handed him down to the officers below.

That was the easy part. As he aligned himself at the center of the truck, now came the moment of truth of whether he could lift it. He bended at the knees, and gripped the edge of the truck. With a deep breath, he began to pull.

Hernan immediately felt his muscles strain, and whether it was the metal of the truck that groaned or himself, it was hard to tell. Slowly, the truck rose off the bus. Hernan felt his arms burning and his legs tremble. Through gritted teeth, he sucked in more air and held his breath.

The truck rose to the level of his shoulders, high enough for Hernan to place most of the burden on his back.

“H-Hurry…” Hernan didn’t know how long he could hold it.

Immediately the men jumped into action. With the windows cleared, they were able to get them open through the emergency latch. They reached through to carefully lift the first child out, and through a chain, passed her down.

Those who were originally held back from the sidelines stepped forward. There were too few policemen to hold them back as they broke through the barrier. Thankfully they weren’t there to cause any harm. Instead, they furthered the chain and helped carry the children pulled out of the bus onto the side of the road where the rest of the injured were.

All the while, Hernan bore over forty tons on his shoulders.

_‘Hurry…’_

“Ten more!”

The metal frame of the school bus creaked beneath Hernan’s feet. Hernan wouldn’t be surprised if there was a dent the shape of his foot in the yellow frame, but he couldn’t focus on that right now. There was a sharp twinge in his lower back. He felt as if a hand had grabbed a fistful of his muscles and twisted it with no signs of release.

His whole body burned, and sweat beaded across his brow. Superman wasn’t supposed to sweat. He wasn’t supposed to struggle with forty tons. Superman could lift mountains if he wanted to, he could balance a freight car on a single finger, but Hernan right now could feel himself being brought to his knees.

“Hurry!”

“Just two more, Superman!” One of the men shouted up to him.

“Get them out, now!”

Surprised cries sounded from below him for the groaning of the truck rumbled louder. It trembled as he trembled, threatening to topple over.

“Move! Move! Move!” orders were barked as people quickly backed away from the bus.

“Superman, you can let go now!”

“Superman! Superman?”

“I can’t…” Hernan couldn’t raise his arms. His legs wouldn’t straighten as the twinge in his back turned crushing. His muscles did not strain but rather locked. He couldn’t move.

“Superman!”

_‘I… I can’t.’_

Screams erupted through the crowd as the forty-ton truck fell.

 _‘I can’t. I’m not_ _Superman anymore.’_

-/-/-

“H-Hernan?”

Every part of him felt heavy as if there was a giant boulder weighing him down that he just could not lift. It was a crushing force he could not touch – could not see. Every time he tried to lift his hand, a twitch of his finger sent a sharp rush of pain up his arm. His nerves felt frayed in a way they have never felt before, and yet… familiar somehow, like déjà vu, he had been here before.

“Hernan?” a voice beside him croaked above the monotonous _beep_ of a heart monitor. That was right. He knew that beeping sound. He knew the aching feeling he felt weighing down his body: it was pain. And that voice…

“Kirk…”

“Oh thank god.” Hernan felt his hand gripped tightly. His jaw clenched at the sudden throb in the hand Kirk took, but he didn’t dare pull away.

What happened?

Hernan opened his eyes to see red. Kirk’s red eyes were looking back at him, as the cool hand around his loosened. Thin lips pressed tightly together holding back unsaid words, but Hernan knew what Kirk wanted to say.

Kirk wanted to call him a tonto. He wanted to ask him why he did it. Why would Hernan risk using the very last of his powers? Why did he not ask him for help – to not wait for him? Why did he have to do everything alone?

But instead of all of that, Kirk cried, “I thought I had lost you again.”

_‘Again?’_

Through their tightly clasped hands, Hernan couldn’t tell if it was his hand that shook or Kirk’s. But each quake, made the muscles in his arm seize up as if parts of his body were shutting down to protect itself from further pain.

Yes, pain, physical pain was something Hernan knew. It wasn’t a feeling he had known all his life. Rather it was a feeling he had only just begun to truly understand. Last week, when he had found himself tied down in the same bed, he was confused by the feeling at first.

It was foreign to him. The crushing, the sharpness – he had seen such injuries on others, but he had never seen them on himself.

If something had hurt him as Superman, it was an instant pinch. It was an inconvenient twinge just annoying enough for him to notice it, but before it would ever become pain, his body healed itself. If he found himself scratched, burned, bitten, the pain was fleeting. Again, his body took care of it. He could be bleeding one moment and then healed the next.

But now that his body was no longer Superman… not only did he not heal instantly, but he felt every single injury. Death would have been kinder, yet even as his hand burned, there was the coolness of Kirk’s hand in his to ground him.

No, he couldn’t lose now. He had survived last week, which was somehow worse than how he felt now. His hand tightened around Kirk’s as he tried to smile through the pain.

_‘You can’t get rid of me that easily.’_

The next time Hernan woke up, he felt a little lighter than he did the first time. There was still an ache, but the pain felt subdued.

He looked beside him where Kirk was curled up in a chair next to his bed. His head rested upon his crossed arms, and his eyes were closed. Hernan wondered if he was sleeping.

As if answering him, a person beside him said, “Let him sleep.”

Hernan turned his head to see Bekka sitting on his other side. She wore a kind smile as she leaned closer to his bed.

“Would it be insensitive of me to ask how you’re feeling?”

Hernan huffed. “I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck.”

“I can imagine.” Mirth flickered in her blue eyes for a moment before turning sympathetic. “Steve said to thank you for the car charger.”

“Oh yeah?” Hernan had almost forgotten he left his shopping bag in Steve’s car. Nonetheless, he was glad the guy understood that the car charger was a gift for him.

“What about the Bruce Springsteen album?”

“He was less thankful for that.” Bekka smirked at the mention of Hernan’s second gift for Steve.

“That’s—” Hernan’s words were cut off by the bruising he felt clenched around his ribs from taking too winded of a breath. He was gearing up to unleash how truly absurd it was for Steve to not appreciate his 1975, _Born to Run_ , Springsteen album, but some cosmic force saved Steve from his wrath this time.

“And the blanket?”

“I hate it.”

Hernan laughed, but instantly regretted it as a sharp pain ran up his sides and pressed down hard against his chest.

“I’ll give you a week,” Hernan said after he recovered. He bet, given a week or two, Bekka will eventually use the blanket even if it’s only a matter of convenience.

The two of them fell into a moment of silence as Hernan finally looked down at his body. From the neck down, he was heavily bandaged, and his legs were encased in two hard casts that itched like crazy now that he was looking at them. Even his fingers had metal casts that kept him from bending them.

All in all, it could be worse. It had been worse, but this, this he would manage.

“In the three days you’ve been sleeping, many of your broken bones healed themselves,” Bekka said at last. “It was the internal bleeding that was most worrying in the beginning.”

“What are they saying?”

“Who?”

“You know who.”

Bekka looked down at her folded hands for two beats before slowly getting up from her chair.

“Just focus on getting better, Superman. We’re all waiting for you.”

Bekka leaned over to place a gentle kiss on his cheek before leaving the room so he could rest.

Though she didn’t explicitly answer his question, Hernan knew what the answer was. There were so many cameras on him that day on the bridge. No doubt everyone in the world who had access to a screen had seen him struggle to lift up a truck. They saw Superman crushed under an eighteen-wheeler, and though Hernan had survived it, Superman did not.

Superman was dead.

What should have taken months to heal, Hernan was walking again in weeks. Kirk had hung some UV bulbs over Hernan’s bed in hopes that fast healing was just a part of Hernan’s alien physiology, and not a part of Superman’s powers.

Even though his bones healed, and the bruises grew fainter, no amount of UV light could make him fly again. He couldn’t burn a hole through a dead leaf much less see through walls. He couldn’t easily lift the couch anymore, nor hear the people walking by on the streets below. It pained him too much to run, but he doubted he could win a marathon. After three weeks of the accident, Hernan stopped trying to recollect his powers altogether.

Everything Superman could do, Hernan couldn’t, and Hernan had to make peace with that. The first week, before the truck accident, was the hardest. But now, after the second accident, and being bedbound for so long, it was easier to let go. Before the incident, Hernan still had hope that Bekka, Kirk, and him would solve what seemed like an illness. They would find what was slowly draining away his powers, make a cure, and he would be able to remain Superman.

That was a month ago, and Hernan had nothing left. He had no powers. He had lost his hope. He had lost his purpose. He was lost.

If he was not Superman, then who was he?

“Hernan, are you ready to come inside?” Kirk called out to him.

Hernan had been sitting on the roof of the Tower alone to soak up some sun. It wasn’t because he thought any more sunlight would restore what was lost, but simply because… he didn’t know what else he could do.

“Yes, I’ll be right there.”

“Okay.” Kirk remained there on the roof with Hernan until Hernan slowly got up from his chair, and walked towards the door.

“I made you lunch,” Kirk said once Hernan reached him.

“You can cook?”

“Why is that so hard to believe? They say cooking is a science.”

“Uh-huh, I’ll believe it when I see it I guess.”

As soon as Hernan walked into the kitchen, he could smell the black beans. In the middle of the kitchen island was a small bowl of rice and beans with chili powder. It was a simple dish. It was far from gourmet, since his sister liked to joke that he had developed quite expensive tastes, but it was something that made Hernan smile nonetheless. Rice and beans was a dish his family had eaten often because it was cheap, and thus seeing it, reminded him of home – his mother, and his family.

“If you don’t like it, there’s some chocolate pudding in the fridge,” Kirk said.

Hernan shook his head as he sat down to eat. “It’s not that. It’s just that I hardly count this as cooking.”

“Maybe you’ll have a change of heart after you take a bite.”

Hernan did. There wasn’t any hidden flavor, or a surprising twist. It tasted just as he had expected, but it was still something Kirk had taken time to make for him.

A small smile broke across Kirk’s features once Hernan was halfway finished. “After this, I’ll change your bandages.”

Hernan’s fork halted for a moment before he continued eating. He knew what Kirk meant. Kirk would change his bandages, and clean his wounds, before taking a body scan for any physiological changes in Hernan’s body. Although Hernan knew what Kirk was really looking for. He was looking for whatever biological anomaly that was responsible for his current loss of powers, but no matter how often Kirk scanned him, there was nothing he could find.

Even so, Hernan didn’t say anything. If Kirk was still hopeful, then he would let him.

After Hernan finished, he placed the bowl in the sink before following Kirk to his lab. The bats greeted them with tiny screeches and a flutter of their wings, but left them alone for the most part.

Kirk pulled out a stool for Hernan to sit. “Are you feeling any different from yesterday?

“No,” Hernan answered as he sat down and offered his arm for Kirk to take. With pale, deft fingers, Kirk undid the fastening of the bandages and slowly unraveled them. Beneath the gauze was faint blotches of old bruises. Kirk moved onto his torso where Hernan had fractured many of his ribs. The ribs healed, but the bruising remained along with a scar that ran across his right shoulder to the middle of his back. The wound had closed days ago, but Kirk still kept an eye on it.

He pressed a gentle hand against Hernan’s back before asking, “Does this hurt?”

Hernan shook his head. No, it didn’t hurt.

Kirk continued to trail his fingers across Hernan’s back, feeling the vertebrae of his spine, and the ridges of his ribs. When he came to trace the scar over Hernan’s scapula, the touch felt less clinical.

He didn’t even ask him if it hurt. Rather, his fingers flattened against Hernan’s shoulder, and his cool palm slowly pressed against him. With each breath Hernan took, the pressure slightly increased as if Kirk were leaning further into him.

There was a gap between them that Kirk was closing, and this closeness… it hurt.

“It doesn’t hurt.” Hernan lied. Kirk backed away and the closeness was lost.

“That’s good.” Kirk’s tone was clinical once more, but strained. Beneath the sense of detachment was something else reaching out for him.

Hernan turned away.

Kirk went to remove the rest of the bandaging with the same care he did with the first ones. When Hernan was free of all the wrappings, there was a small soreness radiating from his arms, legs, and chest as the wrappings had compressed all of the ache until now.

“Can you raise your arm?” Kirk asked.

As if the joint of his shoulder was rusted, his arm was unsteady as it rose. Kirk took note of it. He reached out a steady hand to support Hernan’s elbow. He didn’t apply any force to lift Hernan’s arm higher. He simply prevented it from falling back down.

With Kirk’s aid, Hernan was able to raise his arm above his head, and after repeating the motion a few more times, he was able to do it without Kirk’s assistance.

“We will have to do this more often.” Kirk noted.

Hernan didn’t protest. Instead, he repeated the exercise on the opposite arm, and then onto his legs. Next, he was able to twist his torso from side to side, and he nearly touched his toes when he bent down.

Although all the movement had worsened his ache, it also made him feel a little lighter. His shoulders weren’t as stiff, and he could raise his knees to his chest. He was in no condition to run, but he could walk at a thirty-year old’s pace instead of someone over eighty.

“Alright, let’s take a scan, and that will be it for today.” Kirk moved towards his computer where he pulled up the scans from yesterday.

He had been scanning Hernan every chance he could, but the results were always the same. There was nothing they could see that could explain the death of Superman.

With a click of a button, Hernan could hear the machine power up, but he didn’t move.

“Hernan?” Kirk looked at him expectantly.

Hernan looked at the machine then back at Kirk.

He sighed. “I’m okay for today.”

Hernan reached for his shirt which was a simple black button up. It was less of a hassle to slip on than just a regular t-shirt. After he slipped both legs into a pair of black sweatpants, he heard the machine power down.

“I see,” Kirk said.

His voice was so soft, Hernan nearly missed him. Kirk’s back was towards him as he was hunched over looking down at his desk. His desk was stacked high with files all connecting to Hernan in some way. There were all the scans Kirk had taken, his blood work, x-rays, and his recovery process from not only his most recent incident, but also the first one that had started it all.

It was everything and nothing all at once. It was everything Kirk could gather on Hernan, but none of it explained why Superman was gone. Even as Kirk looked down at the mountain of data in front of him, he was looking at nothing. There was nothing there.

“I’m sorry.”

Hernan thought he had imagined it at first. There was nothing for Kirk to apologize for, but then those shoulders started to quake and Hernan remembered that day again. Just before Hernan had left to buy the remote, an excuse to escape it all, Kirk had apologized then too.

Why?

Hernan was the one who was sorry. He was the one who should apologize… but he didn’t. He didn’t apologize. Instead, he had walked out that day, and Kirk didn’t stop him.

No… that wasn’t right. That wasn’t what happened that day.

“Don’t.” Hernan forced out through clenched teeth.

Kirk’s shoulders stilled. He didn’t turn around. Rather, his head tilted to the side as if to sneak a peek over his shoulder, but he was too afraid to really look at Hernan – to see if he was still there, for that day, it wasn’t that Kirk didn’t stop him. It was that Hernan had left Kirk when he should have stayed.

“Don’t… Don’t apologize.” Hernan stood his ground. He wasn’t going anywhere.

“How can you say that?”

“Because you have nothing to apologize for.”

“But I… if I hadn’t…” Kirk turned around. His red gaze remained down and away from Hernan, as his dark hair fell around his face. His right hand crossed over his chest to hold his left arm, causing his shoulders to slump forward and his whole frame to look smaller.

“If you didn’t have to shield me—” Kirk was about to continue only for Hernan to stop him right there.

“If I didn’t shield you…” Hernan shook his head of what could have happened, and said, “Of everything that has happened, shielding you, that is one thing I will never regret.”

Red eyes met his and, in an instant, seemed to see everything. The levee between them broke and all the things they had built inside them was washed away by a current so strong, it threatened to take Kirk with it.

But Hernan was there. Hernan had moved to catch Kirk before he could fall to his knees. He held Kirk close to his chest to hide his face so no one could see him cry. Although he could feel a dampness growing upon his shoulder as Kirk’s arms came to encircle him.

“It’s not your fault,” Hernan said as his hold around Kirk tightened. “None of this is your fault. None of us could have predicted the explosion, nor do we even know if the explosion is the reason why I can’t fly.”

Bekka had been to the sight of the explosion several times, gathering samples of the surrounding environment for Kirk to scan, but they could find nothing unusual. The explosives used was C4 which Hernan wasn’t a stranger to. They had merely singed his hair in past encounters. So when he had moved to shield Kirk from the explosion, no one could have predicted that the blast would leave Hernan on the brink of death and powerless.

But Kirk… had Hernan not stepped in…

“I can’t lose you, Kirk. I can’t… So, please, don’t apologize.”

Hernan felt Kirk’s fingers bunched into the back of his shirt as he buried his cheek against his shoulder.

“I can’t lose you either.”

At Kirk’s words, an ache settled in Hernan’s chest, but it didn’t hurt. It wasn’t painful to be this close. Rather, the way Kirk slotted into his arms was like a how the night sky held the stars, how oysters sheltered pearls, or how rings hugged around Saturn. It was the most natural thing, and something Hernan couldn’t lose. He could lose his powers, and even his name, but if he lost Kirk… then all reason would cease to exist.

After weeks of being apart from each other, physically – emotionally, the distance between them was rapidly shortening. Before, when Kirk stayed by Hernan, it wasn’t to simply be there. He was always in the next room if not the same room as Hernan to keep an eye on him. Kirk was his caregiver and his warden. He made sure Hernan couldn’t harm himself nor leave the tower all while rarely ever touching him unless necessary.

Now his hand would run through Hernan’s hair as he passed by him. He would lean against him on the couch when they watched TV, instead of sitting a cushion away. He even fixed the TV remote Hernan broke and endured several episodes of _María la del Barrio_ between episodes of _Days of Our Lives_.

When he ran his knuckles lightly over Hernan’s thigh, the touch was light. The gentleness of his fingers unfurling only to curl around his knee wasn’t clinical. He did it because he wanted to, and yet Hernan found himself wanting so much more.

But before he could reach for Kirk’s hand, Kirk had patted his knee and began to rise.

“I should make you something to eat.”

Hernan didn’t argue. He simply watched as Kirk went across the room to the connected open kitchen. His gray shirt hung low across his shoulders, and the bottom of his pants dragged a little across the floor. The clothes were loose, hiding his shape, but that didn’t stop Hernan from looking.

“I don’t know how you do it.”

Hernan looked away from Kirk for a moment to see Bekka flop down on the other side of the couch. She blindly grasped the blanket that hung over the side, and cocooned herself within it.

Now Hernan could either look at whatever Kirk was up to in the kitchen, or he could look at a large bee, wearing a crown, smile back at him.

He chose Kirk, but nonetheless asked. “Waller or Lane?”

“Both.”

“You had both of them in the same room?”

“No, I had them back to back.”

“Aw, pobrecita,” Bekka peeked out of her cocoon to glare at him. “Want a drink?”

“No.” Bekka sighed as she stretched out her legs and rested her feet on Hernan’s lap. “Steve’s picking me up later so I shouldn’t.”

“Steve, huh? What’s up with him?”

“Hm? What do you mean?”

“I mean, what do you see in him?”

Bekka laughed incredulously as if that was the last question she needed to hear, but answered, “He’s fun to tease.”

Hernan wasn’t convinced.

“You see,” Bekka propped herself up a little, “unfortunately for you, Steve is very straight, so when _I_ tease him, it means something very different than when you do.”

Bekka rearranged her blanket so that the word “QUEEN BEE” could very easily be read by Hernan, and Hernan knew that was by her design. Without having to say so out loud, Hernan got the message: I’m Queen; do not question me.

“Yes, Queen.”

“I believe it’s: Yas Queen.” Kirk chimed in.

“Thank you.” Bekka grinned.

“Lunch.” Kirk handed Hernan a bowl of rice and beans which Hernan took.

“I hope this is leftovers and not the only thing you know how to make.”

“This one’s different.”

“How so?”

“I made it with love.” Kirk leaned down to kiss Hernan’s cheek before whispering in his ear. “Now eat it.”

The command sent a shiver down Hernan’s spine as he swallowed hard. That shouldn’t have turned him on, should it? Kirk was only teasing him, but then Hernan felt those cool fingers curl around his knee again.

Kirk leaned back with an innocent smile and his fingers left Hernan’s knee to brush his hair back behind his ear, which was entirely unnecessary since his hair was already being held back by a hair clip in the shape of a bat.

_‘Joder.’_

Hernan didn’t know he was holding his breath until Kirk left to clean up what little mess he made of the kitchen. He blew out hard, and raised his bowl of rice and beans to hide the fact that Kirk had just blown him away. He cooled the beans down and took a bite. It tasted the same, except Hernan was too distracted to really taste anything.

“Speaking of Steve,” Bekka spoke up. “I think I’ll be staying with him for a couple of days. Give you two time to… bone”

“Bone?” Hernan nearly dropped his fork before he gave Bekka a hard look. “Just because you like that one show, doesn’t mean I’m going to yell out ‘Bone’ in five minutes.”

Bekka scoffed. “You’re just jealous that Kirk likes my shows more than yours.”

“That’s ridiculous. Kirk!” Hernan called out to him. “Kirk?”

Kirk placed a rinsed glass in the dishwasher and promptly turned it on. “I can’t hear you.”

Hernan was flabbergasted as he looked between Bekka’s smug smile and Kirk’s poorly concealed shaking shoulders due to laughter. The betrayal! In front of his lunch? He couldn’t believe it, but even he couldn’t help the small smile that slipped across his features.

As promised, Bekka soon left to meet with Steve, and Kirk took her place on the couch with a stack of papers. He draped the blanket over his legs and rested his feet on Hernan’s lap just as Bekka had. But unlike with Bekka, Hernan reached down to lightly massage Kirk’s feet. His thumb pressed against the instep of his foot and ran upwards towards his toes. Like the rest of his body, Kirk’s toes were cold so Hernan cupped them in his hands to warm them.

The cooking show soon fell into the background of Hernan’s mind as he looked at Kirk sitting on the other side. He couldn’t see the papers well from where he sat, but he was sure it was filled with numbers, algorithms, and graphs. He rubbed his palm against the ball of Kirk’s foot, and watched as those red eyes closed for a silent moment.

When they opened, Hernan’s hands paused. Though half of Kirk’s face was obscured by papers, the look in his eyes said everything he needed to say: What are you waiting for?

That was all Hernan needed to jump him, or rather jump right into the trap Kirk had laid out for him… except that he didn’t. His hands remained resting on the top of Kirk’s foot. He didn’t slide his fingers up to his ankle and circle the little part of bone that jutted out – a part he didn’t know the name of, but if he asked Kirk, he would be able to tell him. Hernan didn’t pull Kirk closer to him by the ankle, and lean over him so those thighs could wrap around him, effectively snaring him like prey.

He didn’t move and he didn’t know why.

Kirk set his papers aside and sat up. His feet easily slipped from Hernan’s hold as he moved to sit closer to him.

“What’s wrong?” Kirk asked.

“Nothing,” Hernan said reflexively.

Kirk didn’t respond right away. Instead, they fell into a long enough silence that Hernan could hear the TV again. Contestants were rushing against the clock with their knives chopping against the cutting board at lightning speed, sauces sizzled in hot pans, and food processors whirred. The scene before Hernan was chaotic, but over the anxiety riddled side interviews of the contestants, Hernan could hear Kirk sigh.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to rush you.” Kirk went to stand and leave. He was a step away from entering the hallway when the TV turned off.

“It’s not that,” Hernan said and Kirk turned to face him.

Hernan remained sitting on the couch. His hands were clasped tightly together as he stared down at them.

“It’s not that.”

“Then what is it?” Kirk’s tone was patient. He didn’t sound mad nor disappointed. He was just desperate to understand what was going on in Hernan’s head, and Hernan wished he could say what was going on too. However, as soon as he got close enough to the answer, his mind recoiled in denial – in disgust. That wasn’t the answer and yet it was…

“I… I’m not Superman anymore.”

“Hernan,” Kirk stepped further into the room, “Superman isn’t the one who saved a school bus full of children.”

Kirk’s cool hands came to hold his as he knelt down in front of him. “Superman isn’t the one who shielded me from an explosion.”

“Kirk…”

“Superman isn’t the one who saved me all those years ago on the docks, and told me his name is Hernan.”

A gentle hand came to grasp his chin and red eyes met his.

“That was all you, Hernan, and no one, not even Superman, can take that from you.”

“But I… I could—”

“Fly? Burn toast with just a look? Blow a wall down with a single sneeze?”

Well, he’s only done the last two things once, but technically, yes when he was Superman, he could all those things.

“Yes, you could do all those things, but those things weren’t what made Superman. You made Superman. You put on the suit and told the world you would change it, and you did. So even if you declare that Superman is dead, you yourself are not. And even if you never put on the suit again, the world has already been forever changed because of you. You made the world better; you made me better, Hernan – not Superman.”

Hernan closed his eyes when the corners of them began to sting. He couldn’t say if Kirk was right or not, but he knew what Kirk said was what Kirk believed, and that was enough to feel a weight lifted from his shoulders.

He didn’t notice he was crying until he felt Kirk’s cool lips press against the dampness of his cheeks. Kirk wiped away his tears, until it became all too much. Kirk rose to stand, and with a gentle hand, guided Hernan forward so that he could bury his face into his middle.

Instinctively, Hernan wrapped his arms around Kirk’s waist as Kirk threaded his fingers through his hair soothingly. He didn’t say anything as he allowed Hernan to let go.

It was rare for Hernan to cry. Even after the first incident, when most of his body was charred black, he didn’t cry. When his bones were crushed by a forty-ton truck, he didn’t shed a tear. And on days when it felt like the whole world was against him, that everyone hated him, he never backed down. He carried all that hurt, all that pain, silently by himself with a strength that never once belonged to Superman. Hernan couldn’t even say it belonged to him for the rare moments when he did break down, it was Kirk who shouldered the burden.

Kirk took care of him. He stayed by his bedside when he was injured, he remained patient when Hernan complained about the TV, and when Hernan would turn away from him or try to push him away, Kirk never gave up on him. Even now, long after Hernan’s tears had dried, Kirk continued to card his fingers through Hernan’s hair.

“Let’s go to bed.”

“Yeah.” Hernan agreed though he didn’t immediately move to stand. His arms tightened around Kirk’s waist as leaned into those fingers massaging the back of his neck.

“Want me to carry you?” Kirk asked when it was clear Hernan wasn’t moving anytime soon.

Hernan scoffed. “No, I can walk. I can do that at least.”

“Hm.”

“I could even carry you.”

“Oh yeah?” Kirk lightly tugged at the ends of his hair, drawing his head back so he could see a smugness flicker in those red eyes. “I would like that.”

“Yeah?” Hernan couldn’t help the upward curl of his lips. “Hold on then.”

He easily slid one arm from Kirk’s waist down to the back of his knees, and swept him off his feet. As he made to stand, Kirk’s arms wrapped around his neck and he leaned into his chest.

“Oh, Hernan, you’re so strong,” Kirk teased.

“Shut up, you ass.” Hernan could feel Kirk muffle his mirth into his shoulder as Hernan laughed too.

Kirk was light in his hold, and for some reason, Hernan found that comforting. He carried Kirk to his room and set him down on his side of the bed. Kirk scooted back so Hernan could crawl in after him.

His arms wrapped around Kirk’s waist once more, and he rested his head upon Kirk’s middle. Kirk wordlessly began running his fingers through Hernan’s hair, and Hernan felt his eyes grow heavy. His body sunk further into the sheets, and his breathing slowed. It was as if nothing had changed, only their location.

“You okay?” Kirk whispered in case Hernan was already asleep.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” Hernan replied, and he was okay. Though he still felt his stomach churn a little, and a weight heavy in his chest, the feeling of Kirk’s fingers stroking through his hair kept his thoughts from running back and forth.

“You’re the strongest man I know, Hernan,” Kirk said softly as he pulled the blankets up to cover them both. “And that will never change.”

Hernan fell asleep, and Kirk was not far behind.

Morning light crept into the room through blinds Hernan didn’t remember closing. His cheek rubbed against something cool, which was refreshing against the suffocating warmth of the blanket. He further sought comfort by tightening his hold around the cold body, and kicking away the blankets to tangle around his feet.

A small groan sounded above him prompting Hernan to raise his head. He peered through weary eyes to see a pale face scrunched in discomfort.

“Cold.” Kirk grumbled. He moved closer to Hernan, his only heat source now that the blankets were out of reach.

It was then that Hernan noticed the leg draped across his side, effectively keeping him from leaving the bed. The cool patch of skin Hernan was leaning against earlier, was from Kirk’s large shirt riding up past his navel. All the while, Kirk’s face was half buried in a pillow, oblivious to Hernan’s attentive gaze.

He was utterly defenseless. If he weren’t half-asleep at the moment, Hernan would think Kirk was luring him into another trap, and on any other morning, Hernan would have been tempted to take the bait. Instead, he shifted himself further up the bed so he could drape his body across Kirk’s.

“So annoying.” A red eye squinted open as Kirk was forced to shift onto his back, but he didn’t complain further. Hernan covered more surface area this way, thus keeping Kirk warmer than before.

Red eyes closed, and Kirk breathed in deeply. A second later, he was asleep again, and Hernan didn’t wake him. He simply watched as pale features relaxed into a light slumber. He listened to his breathing even out, and with their chests pressed together, Hernan could feel Kirk’s heart beat against his.

Since his accident, Hernan couldn’t remember sharing a morning like this with Kirk. He remembered waking up with Kirk sitting by his bedside. Kirk’s cool hands would be in his, but Kirk never crawled into bed with him. During his recovery, Hernan would fall asleep on the couch and wake up with a blanket draped over him. If he made it to his bed, Kirk wasn’t there beside him. Kirk either never slept, or passed out on a pile of notes on his desk.

Now, as Hernan looked down at Kirk, he could see there were no longer dark circles beneath his eyes. There was a little color in his cheeks again, and the stress crease that wrinkled his forehead had smoothened.

Hernan wasn’t the only one who had healed over time. Kirk had too. Although, before Hernan could dwell further on that fact, a hand haphazardly landed on his face and obscured his vision.

“Stop staring,” Kirk groused.

His pale fingers spread apart, allowing Hernan to see red eyes looking back at him. Dark brows furrowed in a poor attempt to look stern, or perhaps it was due to Kirk not adjusting well to the morning light. Either way, it was cute.

“Good morning.” Hernan kissed Kirk’s open palm before him. The fingers furled at the feeling before Kirk moved his hand to cup Hernan’s cheek, giving Hernan an unobscured view to the smile that curled upon Kirk’s lips.

“Good morning. Is it time for breakfast?”

“That depends, is breakfast rice and beans?”

Kirk clicked his tongue. “You like it.”

“I do, but I also like eggs.” Hernan turned his head so he could place a kiss against Kirk’s palm. “And bacon.” His hand came up to grasp Kirk’s wrist before he could retreat from him as he continued to kiss along his fingers. “And pancakes.”

“So demanding.” Kirk laughed. “On second thought, let’s just stay in bed.”

“Sounds good.”

Kirk hummed in content. Though when he went to stretch, he was hindered by Hernan still lying on top of him.

“Good sir, do you mind?”

“I don’t actually.” Hernan replied with a smugness that nearly made Kirk’s jaw drop. However, Hernan didn’t get to bask in his mirth for long. Strong thighs came to grip either side of him, and in a blink of an eye, he found his back hitting the sheets.

Kirk had flipped them and held Hernan down with both hands pressed against his chest. His own hands ran across the powerful thighs on either side of him to ground himself as he watched Kirk’s back arch in a stretch. His back curved in the way cats did, and Hernan couldn’t help but laugh a little at the irony of bat genes running through those veins.

Kirk came out of his stretch with a pleased smile as he lowered himself until the tip of his nose nearly brushed Hernan’s.

“Do you mind?” Kirk asked. His red eyes flicked down to Hernan’s lips before looking back into Hernan’s blue eyes.

“No.” Hernan swallowed. “I don’t mind.”

That was all Kirk needed to close the distance between them. His lips were cool against Hernan’s as his hand came up to frame Hernan’s face. His thumb outlined the edge of Hernan’s angled cheekbone before coming down to swipe against Hernan’s lower lip.

Hernan parted his lips. He felt Kirk’s tongue run along his teeth before sliding past his. As Kirk pressed closer, the tip of his fang was dangerously close to nicking the inside of Hernan’s lip, but Kirk pulled away in favor of trailing a line of open-mouthed kisses down Hernan’s jaw and neck.

Hernan in turn, wrapped his arms around Kirk. His fingers felt the muscles of his shoulders, and tugged lightly at Kirk’s long hair that fell along the nape of his neck. He shifted his legs so that Kirk could lie between them, and Kirk did.

Kirk rose his head from Hernan’s neck to kiss the corner of his lips as their hips aligned together. It was then Hernan started to feel a familiar warmth pool downward. Kirk’s hips rolled against his, and Hernan knew he wasn’t the only one aroused.

However, even with Kirk’s lips on his, his mind couldn’t help but reel back to last night. When he said he wasn’t Superman anymore, he didn’t just mean he was powerless. He meant… he didn’t know what being powerless fully entailed. He didn’t know how it would affect… the bedroom. As silly as that might have been, the question still nagged the back of his mind until he realized Kirk was no longer kissing him.

“Should I stop?” Kirk asked. Red eyes filled with worry looked down at him as Kirk lifted his hips to go on his hands and knees. He still remained hovered over Hernan, but their bodies were no longer pressed together.

“No.” Hernan reached for Kirk to lower himself again, but Kirk didn’t budge.

“Hernan.” There was a warning in Kirk’s tone, though he wasn’t mad. He just wanted to understand. Hernan knew that and yet he turned away from Kirk’s beseeching look. He just couldn’t bring himself to admit what was really worrying him for if it were true… If he couldn’t perform the same way…

“Hernan.” Kirk’s tone was harsher this time. His frustration palpable as his fingers fisted into the sheets. “If this has to do with you not being Superman anymore, I didn’t ask Superman if he wanted to bone last night. I asked you, Hernan.”

Hernan struggled to mentally sidestep over the fact that Kirk had just said “bone”, and instead looked up into those red eyes. There was no fear behind them like there was in his head. There was only a deep pool of need in his red eyes that was tempered by the years of love they shared.

Hernan couldn’t doubt that. He didn’t doubt that Kirk loved him. He only doubted in himself – in his ability to please Kirk the same as he did before he lost his powers.

“Hernan.” Kirk touched him.

His cool fingers splayed across his hip, and his thumb pressed along the curve of the bone. The touch reminded Hernan of the heat that had been growing within him before his head got in the way yet again.

“Hernan,” Kirk leaned closer to Hernan, but still there remained a distance. The gap between them was small. All Hernan had to do was lean up to kiss away that tempting smile… but he didn’t.

“Hernan,” Kirk sighed. “You win.” 

_‘Win?’_ No, Hernan didn’t want to win. He didn’t want Kirk to pull away from him. Though before Hernan could do or say anything, Kirk spoke up first.

“You win.” Kirk repeated much to Hernan’s confusion. “I’ll say it out loud. I’ll say it loud enough to drown that voice inside your head, and enough times until you believe it.”

Kirk’s hand moved from his hip to caress the side of his face. “I want you, Hernan. I crave for your touch.” Kirk kissed the small juncture where his jaw met his ear. “I hunger to feel your skin against mine – to hear your blood rush and your heart pounding.” He planted kisses down his jaw to the point of his chin before raising his head so his red eyes could find blue. “And I want all of you because I love you.”

As if his body had a mind of its own, Hernan could already hear his blood rushing in his ears, and his heart pounding against his ribcage.

But still his mind ruled over his heart as he asked. “And that’s enough?” _‘I’m enough?’_

“It’s everything; you are everything to me.”

The words ghosted over Hernan’s lips, and he reached up to capture them. His lips found Kirk’s as his hands found purchase in Kirk’s long hair. His fingers bunched in the dark strands, holding Kirk close as Kirk leaned into him.

The distance between them closed.

Kirk’s body lowered to press against his. Their hips aligned once more, and Hernan brought his knees up so his thighs could frame Kirk’s sides. A warm tongue darted along the seams of his lips, and Hernan parted them. But as he did so, Kirk’s hips rolled into his, and Hernan couldn’t help the low groan that rumbled in his throat.

The sound was swallowed by Kirk. Kirk, whose hand moved from his cheek to fan across his neck. Kirk, whose hips continued to grind against his until they both were driven mad by the friction. Kirk, who wanted him completely and wholeheartedly, whether he was Hernan or Superman, or simply just himself – whoever that was, Hernan wasn’t quite sure, but he knew he was the one Kirk wanted and for now that was enough.

His hands moved down from Kirk’s hair to grasp at the bottom of Kirk’s shirt. He pulled it up far enough so his hands could slip beneath the cotton fabric and feel the muscles of Kirk’s back flex at his touch.

Kirk was the first to break the kiss as he gently nipped at Hernan’s sturdy jaw. He was careful not to let his fangs nick any part of Hernan’s vulnerable skin, but every time Hernan felt Kirk’s teeth scrape against his neck, he couldn’t help his breath hitch at the idea of Kirk sinking his deadly teeth into him.

Before he lost his powers, Kirk never held back when he bit him. Kirk’s powerful jaws would clamp upon his invulnerable skin, practically gnawing at his flesh and still it would not yield. It wouldn’t even leave a mark much to Kirk’s frustration.

Now that Hernan’s skin was no longer invulnerable, Hernan felt a shiver run down his spine at the thought of how Kirk could mark him, but Kirk pulled away. He sat up on his knees, and with Hernan’s help, pulled his shirt over his head to toss in some forgotten corner of the room.

Hernan followed his lead. He pulled at the back of his own shirt, though before it was even over his head, he could already feel Kirk’s cool fingers tracing the muscles of his abdomen. As more skin was revealed, those fingers traveled higher. They curled around the hard line of his shoulders, and teeth nipped at the tip of his collarbone.

Hernan hissed.

Kirk kissed the new mark as if in apology, but by the upward curl of his lips, Hernan knew he wasn’t sorry. The way his tongue trailed across the reddened skin, Hernan knew Kirk loved it. And slowly, with each new mark Kirk left across his shoulders and the collar of his neck, the doubt that clouded his mind began to ebb away.

Kirk’s hands pressed against his chest until his back hit the sheets. All the while, those red eyes watched him through the descent. They looked for any hint of resistance, any trace of doubt that may still linger in Hernan even as his fingers came to tug at the elastic of his pants.

Hernan swallowed.

He wanted this. He wanted Kirk to touch him, and so he raised his hips so Kirk could easily slide his pants down – underwear and all. Red eyes watched his cock spring free of its confines with a hunger that made Hernan’s toes curl in anticipation.

Kirk tugged Hernan’s pants down the rest of the way, sliding off the bed as he did so. He tossed the pants beside their forgotten shirts, and with a strong hold on the underside of Hernan’s knees, he pulled him forward towards the edge of the bed.

Hernan pushed himself up on his elbows to see Kirk kneeling between his legs. He reached down to card his fingers through Kirk’s hair as he felt cool lips latch upon his inner thigh. They both knew his weak points, having found them together over many years, and Kirk took full advantage of this. He nipped teasingly at the sensitive skin, earning a sharp hiss and a light tug on the back of his head.

Kirk continued.

Hernan couldn’t help his breath catch with every bite. Even as Kirk’s teeth pulled, his skin stretched but did not break. It purpled and reddened – his blood rushing to the surface as his legs shook at the ephemeral ache Kirk’s teeth left behind. The pain – no, the discomfort was fleeting. Hernan knew what pain was, and this wasn’t it.

What did hurt a little more was the hardness of his cock as it lied untouched across his stomach. His fingers twitched, itching to touch himself. Just a little. Just to take the edge off, but then Kirk’s teeth sunk in just a little higher than the last mark he made and the spark was instantaneous.

His leg jerked and his toes curled as his whole body lurched forward until he had one foot on the ground. His whole body angled towards Kirk, and yet the fangs sank even deeper. A sound Hernan has never heard before was ripped from him, though it was quickly deafened by the sound of his heart racing against his eardrum.

Kirk swallowed against his thigh, and there was that spark again – burning up his leg and making that already tight knot in his core twinge. The discomfort was edging on painful but Kirk’s tongue moved to catch every drop that dripped from the shallow bite, and remind him that this was a spot his body craved to be touched.

Pleasure spiked up his spine as a shiver ran down his back.

“K-Kirk…” He breathed out. His body shook as much as his breathing stuttered. He needed to be touched and Kirk knew where.

Kirk unlatched from his thigh and gave a parting kiss to the spot before his fingers ran up his legs to cradle his hips. He leaned forward, and Hernan couldn’t help the shudder that ran through him at the feeling of Kirk’s heated breath ghosting over the head of his dick.

“Shh, I have you,” Kirk said as his fingers tightened around Hernan’s hips as if to ground himself. As if he felt just as tilted as Hernan did.

Still, his cock stood tall between them, weeping already with pre-cum and the head purpling further with each passing second of those red eyes watching him.

“Kirk. I need… need—”

“I know.”

Kirk wet his lips. His tongue dragged slowly over his upper lip with a kind of hunger that was insatiable. It was as if he had never drank from Hernan’s thigh just seconds ago, and Hernan swallowed at the sight of it.

“I’ll take care of you,” was the last thing Kirk said before Hernan felt those cool lips on him finally. They gently kissed the head of his cock, further wetting themselves upon the drops of cum that had already slipped out.

Hernan’s fingers, buried in Kirk’s hair, tightened as Kirk’s tongue licked a long strip up the underside of his cock. Up, down, left, up, right, down – Hernan lost direction of Kirk’s movements. All he could do was focus on the feeling of Kirk’s saliva dripping all the way down the length of his cock.

_‘Dios… God, yes.’_

Hernan’s eyes closed of their own volition when those cool lips wrapped around him and slowly, slowly the warmth of Kirk’s mouth enveloped him. Kirk took him in, as far as he could go. Where his lips couldn’t reach, his fingers did. They wrapped around the base of his cock and squeezed until Hernan was breathless.

He willed himself to look. His eyes fluttered open to see Kirk’s head bobbing between his legs. It was an image Hernan wanted to commit to memory for as long as he lived. It didn’t matter if Kirk had sucked him off many times before. How he felt now… he couldn’t say he’s ever felt as drunk as he did.

His head was heavy from trying to keep the room straight, so he fell back into the bed to find some rationality in gravity. His hands let go of Kirk and tangled in the sheets, leaving wrinkles in their wake as he felt the tip of his cock hit the back of Kirk’s throat.

Kirk swallowed.

“ _Ahh_ —mmph...!” Hernan quickly bit down on his bottom lip, but the damage was done. The coil inside him tightened like a spring in a trap being drawn back and ready to snap.

“Mmm,” Kirk hummed encouragingly. They both knew he was close, and still Kirk didn’t dare to let go. He wanted Hernan to come, and Hernan wanted it. He wanted it so much, he couldn’t remember wanting anything more.

Kirk’s cheeks hollowed, and his lips drew up his cock in a long, drawn pull – sucking hard enough to pull a moan from Hernan’s throat that felt just as long. Then, as his tongue circled the head, he fell back down hard, lightyears faster than his ascent. The contradiction left Hernan near gasping.

Kirk repeated the motion until the corners of Hernan’s vision blurred, and the coil inside him snapped. And Hernan was coming. He came with a silent cry, and his back arching off the bed. He felt so high, yet couldn’t move. Every part of his body stretched, pulled away from his core until slowly, he was brought back down.

His heart pounded against his chest as he tried to control his breathing. With each deep breath, a piece of clarity returned to him like noting the thin layer of sweat that coated his cooling body.

Then there were those hands – skillful, sinful – hands massaging his legs. They called him back to the room, to the bed, to the sight of Kirk resting his head against the inside of Hernan’s thigh as he too was breathless.

“Kirk.”

Hernan regained the strength to sit up. He reached down to grasp Kirk by the shoulders, and draw him into bed. Kirk followed. He crawled onto the bed and settled in between Hernan’s well marked legs. Legs Kirk could never mark before this morning, and by the way his hands still refused to leave them, spoke of how much he loved them.

Hernan caressed his flushed cheek, and ran his fingers through his tangled hair. Kirk’s hair was messier than Hernan’s ever would be due to their differing lengths and Hernan loved the sight of it.

His blue eyes flickered down to Kirk’s swollen lips, still sticky from his cum. Hernan bit back a groan. His thumb ran along the swell of Kirk’s bottom lip, making a further mess of them for he wanted to make a mess of Kirk. He wanted Kirk to be as messy as Hernan felt inside, but then Kirk took Hernan’s thumb into his mouth and sucked like it was most natural thing to do. Like Kirk was born to suck every inch of Hernan’s body, and Hernan wanted nothing more but to let him consume him.

Kirk lurched forward, releasing Hernan’s thumb in favor of clashing their lips together. Hernan could taste himself on Kirk’s tongue as both of them reached for each other. Hernan’s hands wrapped around Kirk’s waist, drawing him closer as Kirk’s hands folded behind Hernan’s neck. Their bodies molded into one, slotting perfectly in place like they were always meant to be together.

“What do you want, Hernan?” Kirk sighed against his lips. “Tell me.”

“You know what I want.” Hernan’s hand slipped past the elastic of Kirk’s sweatpants to grip the length of his cock.

Kirk hissed. His eyes looked at him. The red was now just small rings of fire around large black pupils that threatened to swallow him like blackholes.

“Are you sure?” Kirk asked, already knowing what Hernan was suggesting.

Hernan’s hold around Kirk tightened, drawing a throaty moan as he said. “I want you to fuck me.”

Kirk swallowed and Hernan chased that bobbing Adam’s apple. He ran his teeth along the sensitive skin underneath the raised cartilage, and sucked at the hollow of Kirk’s neck. Kirk leaned into his hold.

His cool fingers fanned across the collar of his neck, tracing the row of teeth marks impressed against tanned skin. All the while, Hernan rolled Kirk’s pants down from his hips, over the curve of his ass, and down his thighs. He pushed them as far down as he could with Kirk still kneeling before him, but Kirk didn’t move. Not yet.

He let Hernan run his hands up the back of his thighs, and knead the swell of his ass. The action brought his hips closer to him, close enough for Hernan to feel the hardness of his erection trapped between their bodies. A low growl rumbled deep in Kirk’s throat, and his hands on Hernan’s chest pushed him back until his back hit the sheets.

“Say it again.” Kirk strained between clenched teeth.

Hernan shivered at those hungry eyes starving for him, but he remained resolute as he repeated. “I want you to fuck me.”

“No, not that.”

Hernan paused for a moment. Did Kirk not want that? Though before Hernan could even begin to doubt himself, he felt cool hands run across his shoulders, and he looked up into Kirk’s eyes. They remained darkened with a yearning for something only Hernan could give him. Three words…

“I want you,” Hernan said.

Immediately, Hernan saw Kirk’s shoulders relax and his whole body slowly melt into him.

“I want you,” Hernan repeated. “I need you, Kirk.”

He wrapped his arms around Kirk’s back as the corners of Kirk’s lips curled into a warm smile. It was the kind of smile that gave butterflies wings, that made him think of hot summer nights, and sucking nectar from honeysuckles. It was the kind of smile that made him believe the moon could be brighter than the sun it reflected – that the sun needed the moon just as much as the moon needed the sun.

Hernan kissed Kirk’s smile, and felt warmth blossom within his chest where his heart fluttered. Kirk kissed him back. There was no teeth, no tongue, just a gentle press of lips slowly moving against each other.

Hernan didn’t know when Kirk kicked off his pants, or reached into the side table for what they needed. He only felt slick fingers tease the strip of skin behind his balls before moving lower to his entrance.

“Wait,” Hernan said, and Kirk withdrew from him. “I just…”

Hernan shifted so he could lie on his stomach. He grabbed a pillow from the headboard to stuff beneath his hips, and grabbed another for himself to hold. Kirk huffed, and Hernan looked over his shoulder to see a smirk tug at Kirk’s lip.

Hernan knew Kirk enjoyed looking down at his face when they did this, but Hernan liked to think the view of his ass more than made up for it. As if to confirm his hunch, he felt Kirk’s thumbs dip into the dimples of his back, just above the rising slope of his backside.

He sighed at the feeling before a laugh bubbled in him when Kirk wasted little time in grabbing a handful of his ass. He pulled and kneaded at the flesh with one hand, and with the other, snapped open a bottle of lube.

Hernan bit the inside of his cheek as he felt the cold lube dribble down the cleft of his ass. Kirk mumbled a quiet apology for not warming it first, but Hernan couldn’t care less. He wanted Kirk. He needed him like Kirk needed Hernan. Perhaps Kirk needed him even more so considering he has yet to climax.

Therefore, Hernan expected the first two fingers to be rushed affairs, but Kirk’s touch was slow. It was gentle, and deliberately so when the first finger breached him.

Hernan breathed in deeply.

It didn’t hurt, nor was it uncomfortable just yet. It was only the first knuckle as he canted his hips back to sink further down the digit. Kirk clicked his tongue, and grabbed his hip to still him.

“Slowly,” Kirk said.

“Not that slowly,” Hernan protested only to feel Kirk lean over his back and place a soothing kiss to the tip of his shoulder.

“Slowly,” Kirk said again as his finger crooked upwards. “I want you to feel it.”

“Mmm…” Hernan hummed to not only the feeling, but as if he agreed with Kirk which he didn’t.

He wanted it hard. He wanted it fast. He didn’t like it slow, yet Kirk continued to take his time. He outlined the line of his shoulders with soft, wet, open-mouthed kisses. He licked the marks speckled across his skin, sparking that ephemeral ache once more. It rekindled a fire deep within him as a different kind of warmth bloomed through him.

A second finger carefully slipped beside the first one, and Hernan groaned appreciatively at the stretch.

Finally.

Kirk hummed against his shoulder. He held his fingers still to give Hernan time to adjust, but Hernan didn’t want time. He wanted Kirk.

 _‘Come on… please.’_ Hernan wanted to swing his hips back, but Kirk’s hand on his hip held him in place.

 _‘Not yet,’_ Hernan could imagine Kirk saying to him, but then those fingers moved. They pulled tantalizingly slow, so just the tips of his fingers were still inside him, before pushing back in just as slowly. And slowly, with every stroke, Hernan felt those fingers reach deeper inside him.

It was maddening.

Every drag left behind a friction that wasn’t a burning but an itch. It was an itch Hernan wanted scratched so badly, he nearly begged for it. As if Kirk could hear his silent pleas, he curled his fingers ever so slightly and angled them just…

“Hnnn!” Hernan whined. “There… right there.”

“I know, Hernan. I know.” Kirk whispered against his shoulder blade as he repeated the motion.

Hernan’s jaw clenched and his toes curled. He felt those fingers inside him spread apart and press up against his walls just right, it stole his breath away.

A third finger slipped in, and there was the burn he searching for. His hold around the pillow tightened as he muffled the low groan that rippled through him. Still those cool lips brushed against his hot skin. Kirk licked the sweat off his quaking shoulders, and lightly teethed at the shallow dips of his back.

Neither action distracted Hernan from the three fingers thrusting inside him. They reached so deeply, and yet not far enough. He needed more. He needed so much more, it nearly drove him mad. Then the fingers would furl and Hernan was choking on a moan.

“E-enough.” Hernan’s hand reached back to cover the pale hand on his hip.

“Just a little more.” Kirk’s pace never picked up. He remained slow, but precise, and Hernan hated it.

He hated how those fingers worked him. Kirk wasn’t consuming him. He was picking him apart, slowly prying away that proud shell of his until Hernan was left bare – until he was stripped raw, and left shaken by his sudden vulnerability. All his imperfections, all his flaws left naked for Kirk to see.

But then Kirk pressed his lips against the scar on his back… He shouldn’t have lied. He didn’t hate it.

He craved it.

He craved for Kirk to look under all the messy layers that was him, and hold him tighter still. That was love, wasn’t it? Or at least, that was the kind of love Kirk gave him, and Hernan wanted no other

Kirk withdrew his fingers from him, and Hernan couldn’t help the small whine that left him at the hollowness. He was rolled onto his back to find Kirk looking down at him. The pupils of his eyes were still blown wide, and no smile was to be found. He was breathing too hard to smile. His swollen lips were slightly parted, and his cheeks were flushed. A blush dusted across pale shoulders, and Hernan knew that when Kirk’s blood really begins to boil, his whole chest to the tips of his ears would redden.

“Hernan.” Kirk’s voice was barely above a whisper as if the name struggled to pass his throat.

Blue eyes followed the slow bob of his Adam’s apple before trailing further down the sinuous lines of his body, and ending at the sight of his hard cock curving up towards him. His core shook in anticipation. He wanted to feel the length of Kirk’s cock finally drive into him, reaching farther than his fingers ever could.

So he ran his fingers up the pale arms on either side of him until they could curl around the back of Kirk’s shoulders as he hissed. “Yesss.”

“Say it again.” Kirk leaned down closer to him so Hernan could feel his heated breath ghost over his lips.

Without any hesitation, Hernan said what Kirk wanted to hear.

“I want you.”

Soft lips met his, and Hernan keened. He brought his legs up and spread them invitingly. Kirk, without ever breaking away from him, ran his hand up Hernan’s marked thigh to curl around his hip and tugged him forward.

Hernan’s breath hitched. Kirk’s cock laid heavily against his ass, though before Hernan could really think about it, Kirk’s hips rolled into him. Hernan groaned at the feeling of Kirk’s cock sliding against him, the friction maddening.

“Say it.” Kirk kissed the corner of his mouth.

“I want you.” Hernan repeated. “I want you.”

He would say it as many times as Kirk wanted, and Kirk wanted. He wanted him as he blindly reached for the bottle of lube again. Hernan heard it pop open, and then slick fingers were rubbing against him.

“I want you, Kirk. Only you.” Hernan tightened his hold around Kirk’s shoulders as he felt the blunt head of Kirk’s cock line up. “I wan—ngh!”

His nails dug into Kirk’s skin as his he leaned forward to muffle any further noise into Kirk’s shoulder. Kirk had entered him with one single push, and Hernan felt it. The stretch deliciously burned with the flames licking at his core.

“Hernan.” Kirk breathed against his temple as the hand on his hip slid between their bodies. Cool fingers wrapped around his cock, and stroked him through the momentary discomfort. However, the touch only made him clench harder around Kirk, adding fuel to the flames already burning.

It’s been weeks since they’ve last fallen into bed together, and even longer since Hernan was on the receiving end. He struggled to adjust to what felt like immense pressure pushing against him. But slowly, after several deep breaths, he felt himself begin to yield.

Kirk’s hand remained wrapped around him as he gave a slow, shallow thrust. Hernan moaned, and Kirk continued. With each thrust, Hernan felt himself take in more. He felt Kirk reach deep, deep inside him until he was fully seated.

His hips stilled once more to allow Hernan time to breathe, but Hernan didn’t want time. Kirk had his time. Now it was time to go. His heels dug into Kirk’s lower back, urging him to move, and bless whatever ethereal being there ever was, for Kirk did.

He drew his hips back at a pace slow enough for Hernan to feel every inch of his cock dragging against him. The friction made his toes curl, and the muscles of his legs involuntarily flex. He held his breath in anticipation of Kirk slamming back into him, but instead Kirk eased himself back in, and Hernan couldn’t help but groan in frustration.

Despite Hernan’s heels desperately digging into the back of his thighs, Kirk continued on unhurried. His hips tantalizingly pulled back before thrusting forward just as slowly. It was a kind of pace that held so much promise, but didn’t quite deliver. It kept Hernan on the edge of something he knew could be great, could be wonderful, could be absolutely sublime, but Kirk withheld it from him. He dangled it in front of him like a carrot, and Hernan was about to get a stick.

The hand around his cock let go, and Hernan gasped when he felt the fingers curl around the nape of his neck. His head was pulled back, and cool lips found his. The kiss was chaste compared to what the rest of their bodies were doing. It demanded nothing more than to just feel Hernan against him. But then Kirk’s hips slammed against his ass, and Hernan’s mouth fell open in a silent cry.

Kirk swallowed it. He took all his moans, all his cries for himself as he continued to thrust into him at a pace that left Hernan shaking. It was with a force that made his legs bounce in the air every time his hips slapped his ass.

“Fu-uh-ck…!” Hernan cursed, and the bastard had the gall to laugh against his sweaty temple, but the anger was fleeting for after a single thrust, white blurred the corners of his vision.

“There! Ri-right there.”

Hernan’s head fell back against the bed, dizzy by the spikes of pleasure he felt surging through him like lightning. The knot inside him coiled ever faster, and god, he internally begged for release. He wanted it, needed it, and by the way Kirk growled lowly against his ear, Hernan knew he needed it too.

Kirk sat up, Hernan’s fingers scratching down his back as he did so. Kirk hissed, and his eyes darkened dangerously. Hernan wasn’t sorry. He couldn’t for he could barely think, barely string together a single coherent thought other than: God yesss.

Kirk took a hold of Hernan’s right leg to prop up against his shoulder, opening Hernan up further. The new angle earned Kirk a loud shout, and the leg in his hold baulked, but Kirk’s grip was firm. His fingers dug into Hernan’s thigh as his other hand held Hernan’s hip in a vice grip, pulling him down onto his cock over and over again.

Hernan threw his head back with a sob ripped from his strained throat. His hands scrambled for purchase around the pillow beneath his head, and yanked its side with such a force that if he still had his full strength, the pillow would have ripped in two. Feathers would be flying, for the new angle had Kirk reaching so far into him, Hernan couldn’t see straight.

He reached him in places Hernan didn’t know he had, but that was impossible. They had done this before. They had fucked exactly like this, and yet Hernan couldn’t remember his body ever shaking so much that even the muscles of his stomach quivered in ecstasy.

“Hernan, I want you...” Kirk rasped between clenched teeth. “I want you to come for me.”

Kirk leaned down over Hernan, forcing his knee to his chest and fucked him just like that. Hernan immediately reached out for Kirk. His hands clawed at his sides as his teeth bit into his shoulder. His scream was muffled as the coil inside him didn’t snap. It was torn to shreds as he came between their bodies in thick spurts. He couldn’t remember ever convulsing against Kirk’s chest the way he did, but Kirk held him through it.

He rode out his climax, and came shortly after. The arm keeping him up all this time finally buckled as he collapsed on top of Hernan heavily, nearly winding him if Hernan had any air to wind but he didn’t. He was breathless. He gasped for air like a drowning man just pulled from the sea.

His nerves were shot. They were frayed as he continued to shudder uncontrollably with each rapid, shallow breath he took. Arms tightened around him. They held him close as if to keep him from falling further apart. They anchored him to this plane of existence, and brought him back down to earth.

With his mind slowly starting to clear, the fog receding, the ache returned. It bloomed across the expanse of his legs, and seeped into his hips. When he tried to move, his shoulders groaned in protest, or perhaps it made him groan out loud for hands, now warm, moved to caress his face.

“Shh,” Kirk tried to soothe him, but the sound came out rough.

Hernan didn’t know when he closed his eyes, but when he opened them, he could see Kirk lying across his chest. The tips of his ears and shoulders were bright red. His hair was a mess before, but now the dark strands were plastered against the nape of his neck by sweat. More sweat speckled down his back, and by the way the morning light struck the pale skin, the sweat glistened like drops of morning dew.

He was beautiful.

“Kirk,” Hernan called out to him, and Kirk raised his head from his chest. His eyes were no longer a thin ring of fire, but a warm red that made Hernan think of sunsets.

His thoughts ended there. He forgot what he wanted to say… if there was anything to say after something like this. Usually he would curse, and Kirk would laugh. Or Hernan would tell him how good it was, and Kirk would hum appreciatively, but small tremors still ran through his legs and Hernan knew this was far from the usual. This was something different, and he couldn’t say anything about it.

“I know,” Kirk said. He leaned up to kiss him gently, and just like that, Kirk had said everything there needed to be said.

A moment later, Kirk slowly withdrew from him. Hernan winced at the feeling of Kirk pulling out of him, leaving behind a hollow ache. Though he couldn’t focus on the ache for long for he felt his face grow hot at Kirk looking down at him – looking down at the mess he’s made of him.

“Beautiful,” Kirk said as his hand ran over the cum and sweat that had dried over Hernan’s stomach. “You’re beautiful, Hernan.”

Hernan cursed the flutter inside his chest. He blamed all the telenovelas he watched to melt at such a line like that.

Kirk leaned over and kissed his sweaty temple. “I’ll draw us a bath.”

Hernan watched Kirk get up from the bed. Red lines ran down his back, and Hernan felt a little sorry for it, but then all he had to do was look down at his purpling thighs and fuck that. He wasn’t fucking sorry.

The sound of rushing water from the tub reached his ears, and he supposed he should get up now. Though as he made to swing his legs over the side of the bed, he couldn’t help but groan a little. And when he went to stand, his knees buckled and he fell back into bed.

 _‘Fuck…’_ His knees were weak.

Kirk turned the faucet off, and returned to find Hernan hunched over the bed and looking down at the floor.

Kirk didn’t ask. He simply said. “I’ll carry you.”

Hernan felt his face grow hot once more in shame. He wasn’t ashamed by Kirk carrying him. Kirk had carried him many times before. Kirk had carried him off the battlefield when he was injured, and he carried him to bed when Hernan fell asleep on the couch. However, Kirk had never carried him because he fucked him till he was weak at the knees. That was just too much, but Hernan had no room to protest.

“Okay,” Hernan conceded, and Kirk reached down and picked him up.

Hernan wrapped his arms around Kirk as Kirk made his way to the connected bathroom. He didn’t tease him, nor make note of why he was carrying him at all. Kirk simply held him close because he wanted to, and Hernan couldn’t feel shame about that.

This was Kirk seeing him this way, and no one else.

 _‘Only you, Kirk. I want only you.’_ “I love you.” The words slipped out of their own volition, and Hernan regretted it a little. Not because he didn’t mean them, but because this was probably the most awkward time to say it. But then he felt himself being lowered to sit at the edge of the tub, and red eyes met his.

A warm smile curved Kirk’s lips, making Hernan think of sunsets and honeysuckle all over again.

“I love you too, Hernan,” Kirk said. “Always.”

Cool lips met his, and Hernan knew then that everything was fine. Everything would be okay.

-/-/-

“And you’re sure she said she wanted me to come?” Hernan rose a dubious brow, but Bekka’s smile remained untarnished.

“Yes, Waller specifically requested that you come too.”

Hernan let out a groan. He thought he had escaped all the government meetings now that he’s relinquished the role of Superman, but there was Waller to ruin yet another day.

“I’m sure she just misses you.”

Hernan huffed.

“After all, there’s no one else who can piss her off more than you do.”

“I’m flattered.”

The sarcasm was not missed by Bekka, but she nonetheless dragged him to the meeting at the Pentagon. Kirk had attended too in uniform as was Bekka.

Hernan thought about wearing his Superman attire, but he decided against it. He was no longer Superman he continued to tell himself. Instead he wore a black, form-fitting turtleneck, dark pants, and his long dark jacket. The jacket was the only thing he wore of Superman’s. After all, some habits are harder to break than others.

The three of them arrived by boomtube. When Hernan stepped through the portal, he was met by a round table with Waller sitting on the far side. There were a couple more familiar faces, including Steve’s, but altogether, the group was small.

Hernan could deduce that it was a classified meeting as the three of them took their seats in the remaining empty seats.

“Now that we’re all here, we can begin.” Waller rose from her seat. She pulled up various images on a holographic screen in the center of the table. The scene was familiar as were the faces of the perpetrators.

“Over a month ago, I sent you three to bust an illegal diamond trade in the Congo. Although you were successful of shutting down the operation and liberating the people, the head of the militia escaped.

“Just yesterday, our satellites picked up images of him hiding in Saudi Arabia. His group is resurfacing, spreading word of the diamonds he was able to harvest. It won’t be too long before either him or more rebel groups like him, try to restart that trade. I need you three to devise a plan to capture him and take him into custody, as well as find word if there are any of these blood diamonds circulating in Saudi Arabia.”

“But we destroyed the diamonds,” Bekka said.

“You did destroy all the ones in the camp, but we cannot know for sure if there are still anymore out there. Captain Trevor,” Waller looked at the man in question. “Please bring in the sample diamond we have on hand.”

“Yes, Madame President.” Steve left the room momentarily.

While he was away, Hernan studied the various images on the screen, trying to see if he recognized any of the leader heads.

“What bodies do you have to spare for this operation besides ours, Waller?” Hernan asked.

Her dark eyes gleamed when they met Hernan’s for the first time since the meeting began. “I’m glad to see you haven’t lost your spirit, Superman. I can spare whatever forces you may need. The insurgent groups of the Congo need no excuse to resurge. The faster we get this done, the better.”

“Understood, then from this image here, the militia’s generals are out in the open in Abu Dhabi. Though we have one satellite image of the head, I’m sure he won’t make that mistake again. If anyone knows his current location, it would be his generals, and what better place to sell illegal diamonds than in a billionaire’s playground?”

“Excuse me, Madam President.” Steve returned with a large blue diamond the size of a one’s fist.

Hernan felt a small chill run down his spine at the sight of it. Strange… perhaps the presence of the diamond was just making him remember the explosion that ended the mission, and ended Superman. But that didn’t feel right. It was just a diamond, and so Hernan went on.

“Please tell me you already have intelligence placed in Abu Dhabi. It would make Wonder Woman’s job much easier for I believe in such an elitist scene, she would fit in best.”

“Yes, we have intelligence stationed in – Superman? Are you alright?”

Hernan clutched his head suddenly to stop himself from reeling. The air around him buzzed loudly in his ear, as his breath quickened.

“Hernan?” Kirk’s voice didn’t reach him.

“Superman? Quick! Someone call a medic.” Waller yelled, but before anyone could reach him, Hernan already felt the world rush past him. His head hit the table and his vision blackened.

When Hernan woke, he was lying down flat. A loud buzzing rang against his ears, but it wasn’t like the one earlier. This one was more familiar as lights flashed before him.

He was being scanned.

“Hernan, please remain still.” Hernan heard Kirk’s voice through the headphones placed over his ears. “You passed out at the meeting for reasons unknown. I have a haunch, but I won’t know for sure until the scans are complete.”

Minutes passed before Hernan heard the machine power down. The patient table was extracted, and Kirk was there to greet him with a large smile gracing his features.

Hernan was dubious that Kirk would find anything different but the look Kirk wore gave him pause. “Find anything?”

“Yes, Hernan, I feel so stupid for not realizing it sooner. You see, the reason why we never found anything earlier is because it’s harder to scan for something you don’t know, but this time, scanning for the traces of the diamond, we were able to detect a small shard embedded in your back.”

“My back?” Hernan subconsciously reached to touch the only scar he had. “How’d it get there?”

“I imagine it was from the explosion. You took the brunt of blow when shielding me. A piece must have deeply embedded itself in your back at that point, or traveled through your bloodstream to the muscle it’s currently stuck in.”

Hernan took a moment to digest what Kirk was saying. The reasoning sounded plausible besides the idea that all of this was because of a rock. No, that couldn’t be it. How could a rock do this?

“That’s not all, Hernan.” Kirk pulled up a screen in front of them in which there were two seemingly identical pictures side-by-side. “The one on the right is the atomic structure of one of your molecules, and the one on the left is the atomic structure of the molecules in the diamond. Do you know what that means?”

“I’m related to a rock?”

Kirk smiled. “Sort of. This rock is not made of anything on Earth. It’s comprised of atoms that make you, meaning you are both of Kryptonian origin. It’s also another reason it was so hard to scan for. The machine just registered it as another part of you.”

Hernan mentally sidestepped over the fact that he was related to a rock, and asked. “So how do we get it out?”

“We’ll surgically remove it,” Kirk said in a tone that suggested there was no room for argument.

Hernan paled at the suggestion. He hated hospitals. He didn’t have the best of memories when it came to them, but thankfully the hospital came to him instead. A section of the Tower was refurnished as a medical operation suite with a surgeon signed to secrecy.

“You’ll be okay,” Kirk assured him as an oxygen mask was placed over Hernan’s face. “I’ll see you on the other side.”

“That’s not comforting.”

“You know what I mean.” Kirk kissed his cheek.

Hernan tried to glare at Kirk for his teasing remark, but his facial muscles had already relaxed and soon he was sound asleep.

When he woke, there was no pain. There was no crushing feeling, nor a sharpness cutting into him. His mind was clear instead of foggy, meaning there was no painkillers in his IV drip. In fact, there was no IV in him at all.

He felt light, he felt warm, and somehow, he felt whole again.

“Hernan?” Kirk was sitting by his bedside. There were no dark bags underneath his eyes, nor were his brows furrowed in worry. Rather he looked hopeful for the first time in a long time.

Without saying a word, Hernan shot up from his bed and wrapped his arms around Kirk.

“Hernan!”

“I feel good, Kirk.” Hernan hugged him tighter. “No, I feel great. I feel like me again.”

A laugh slipped from Kirk as he returned his embrace. “You were always great, but I’m glad you finally feel it.”

“Ah, mío dios! You’ve been watching too many telenovelas to say that.”

“I don’t want to hear that from you.” Kirk laughed, and the rich sound of his joy made Hernan want to fly.

Before Kirk’s mirth could die, Hernan kept his hold on Kirk and leapt through the open window. Air rushed through his hair, and rippled through his clothes. Exhilaration coursed through his veins at the feeling of it all, to feel the fall but not fear it. It was a feeling he missed so much. It was a feeling he feared he would never feel again.

“Hernan!” Kirk’s shout brought Hernan back to his senses, and before Kirk’s wings could unfurl to catch them, Hernan pulled up.

They shot through the streets. They zipped past cars, wove between the buildings, and even raced past flocks of flying birds. They were flying; he was flying.

“Hernan!” Kirk called out to him again.

“I can fly, Kirk! I can fly.”

“Yes, Hernan, you can, but you’re also still in your medical gown!”

Hernan briefly looked down at his attire as he was indeed still wearing the medical gown he put on before going into surgery… Well then, no wonder it felt so breezy back there.

Laughing, Hernan flew high enough they could touch the clouds. No one could see them from this height, not even the birds.

“Ah, it’s not like no one has seen my ass before,” Hernan said.

Kirk shook his head, but a smile crept upon his lips nonetheless. “I don’t think Lane has ever forgiven you for that.”

“I save a whole island of people from an erupting volcano and suddenly it’s my fault my clothes burnt off.” Hernan huffed, but then Kirk leaned up to kiss the crease that formed between his scowling brows.

“You were pretty hot that day.”

“Yeah, I was.” Hernan smirked.

“You know what else is pretty hot?”

Hernan’s jaw dropped for cool fingers seized the swell of his ass still hanging out in the breeze.

“That’s it. I’m boning you in a cloud,” Hernan declared, and Kirk laughed.

The hand that was on his ass moved to caress his face, as Kirk kissed him. Kirk’s hand was cool against his cheek, and his breath warm against his lips. The touch made something inside Hernan’s chest flutter. It made him want to dance on clouds as the sun painted them in gold.

Just hours ago, Hernan never dared to think of such a thing. He never thought he would be able to hold Kirk in this way again, high in the air for no one to see but him. But then Kirk was looking at him. There was a sinful fire in Kirk’s red eyes that spoke of desire, and a sweet curve of his lips saying _‘because I love you’_.

It was a look Kirk gave him when he had some space rock in his back – when he was just Hernan and not Superman. And that look, this look, was only for him.

Hernan melted.

Then his hold on Kirk tightened as he growled against his ear. “You. Me. Cloud. Now.”

Kirk laughed again, and his mirth didn’t die even as Hernan dove them both into the nearest cloud.

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: So one of the first things I said to Aries, when I picked this prompt, was: Angst? And she said no... and if you know me, that's a tall order XD So I went the opposite route and tried to make it more funny than it was sad because laughter is the best medicine... I suppose. So I hope I made you guys laugh more than I made you guys sad. Thanks for reading if you've gotten this far, and take care!
> 
> REMINDER: Check out the art on [AO3](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25233052) and [Tumblr](https://ariesnohope.tumblr.com/post/623485659948154880/for-a-mysterious-reason-superman-loses-his-heat)!
> 
> P.S. I forgot to say, the rock related to Hernan, is blue kryptonite, the lesser evil of green kryptonite. Green would have put Hernan in a dying state and that's angst XD


End file.
